Brotherhood
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: Spoilers for The Fallen 3: End of Days; words taken straight form the book and alternate twists. Starts at: Page: 108... Aaron and the other Nephilim encounter someone who they wished were gone, and don't have anyother option then to take him back home. [new character added, focus on Aaron and Lucifer's characters]


**a/n: Spoilers for **_**The Fallen 3: End of Days;**_** words taken straight form the book and alternate twists. Starts at: Page: 108... (wrote this when I was three-quarters through the book.)**

_Aaron and the other Nephilim encounter someone who they wished were gone, and don't have anyother option then to take him back home._

**Brotherhood**

Lying on the ground before them, he was a disturbing sight. It appeared the trolls had been gradually feeding on the Powers angel and the thought nearly made Aaron sick.

The angel drifted in and out of consciousness, rambling when awake, of something more cleaner than Aaron would have thought, after all that he heard the angels of this certain host curse what he was. Aaron heard the words "Nephilim," and a "deserter of the Powers."

Aaron thought of their leader and felt a chill of fear pass through him. Verchiel had been a formidable foe, and had almost succeeded in unleashing Hell on earth. But as the fate of the world was hanging by a thread, Aaron stopped Verchiel, forgiving him of all his sins and allowing him to return to Heaven to face the judgment of the Creator. As well as any surviving angels of the host who had fallowed Verchiel.

Aaron doubted that any of them got off easy for the acts that the host had done as well as intending to do to the world and the innocent Nephilim that had been slaughtered at their hands over the centuries.

So if there was an angel out there that had deserted the Powers, then Aaron wanted to meet the heavenly being. His friend and mentor, Camael, had been the original leader of the Powers when they descended to earth after the Great War in Heaven, but had left after the human seer had a vision of a mortal woman laying with an angel to create a hybrid, or Nephilim, child. The vision predicted that one of these children would be the Chosen One, who had the power to forgive all the fallen angels and send them back to Heaven and God. Camael had realized that what this could mean for him if it were true and vowed to protect the Nephilim instead of destroying them like Verchiel, who became the new Powers' leader. Camael had been gravely injured about eight months ago in a battle against Verchiel, and Aaron had forgiven the angel who had become a dear friend and his mentor, and sent him back to Heaven.

"What are you going to do with him?" Vilma asked, interrupting Aaron from his thoughts.

Even after he had told Jeremy that they weren't about leave the angel in the hole where they had found him, there was still a part of him that wanted to leave the Powers angel to rot for all the evil that he had done.

One of the angel's wings had been severed at the shoulder, while the other, while still attached, was missing feathers. It shed more as the appendage beat fitfully upon the ground, stirring up clouds of dust in the process.

"He's dying," Aaron said as he knelt beside the trembling creature.

"Looks like he'd been there a long time," Jeremy added from where the other Nephilim stood. "Maybe we should help him along." His axe sparked and hissed as if eager to taste more violence.

Aaron could see the way the other Nephilim looked at the Powers angel. Many of them had endured the horrors at the hands of these angels, while others heard the stories. This was one of those creatures, whose soul purpose had been to exterminate them.

But as Aaron had told Verchiel, he wasn't a murderer.

"Maybe you're right," Aaron said, staring down at the mangled angel on the ground before him who had no other choice than to be at his mercy.

"You're not going to hurt him… are you?" Vilma asked.

It hurt him to have her ask such a thing, to think that he might be capable of such an act, but the time they live had changed him- it had changed them all.

"No," Aaron said with a slight shake of his head. "The exact opposite, really." He held up his hand and felt the power surge to life there. The power to forgive. The power of redemption that was bestowed upon him by him father and making him the Chosen One the prophesy spoke of.

If the angel before him was filled with redemption, Aaron had the power to send him back to Heaven.

The Powers angel continued to writhe upon the ground as Aaron placed a softly glowing hand upon his sunken chest. He was wearing little more than filthy rags, and Aaron felt the cool touch of his skin through his palm.

The angel stopped thrashing at the touch and looked up into Aaron's gold-flecked eyes. One of his eyes was missing, but the other was fixed upon his face with great intensity.

"What are you?"

"I can send you home," Aaron told him. "Back to-"

"Heaven," the angel finished.

"Yes,"

"And what must I do to receive such mercy?" the Powers angel asked.

Aaron cocked his head to the side as he heard the hopelessness in the angel's tone instead of the disgust that he was so accustomed to hearing for his kind.

"You have to be sorry," Aaron said.

"Sorry?" the angel asked.

"Sorry for all the sins that you've committed… sorry for all the pain that you have caused."

The angel's body started to shake and sound was leaving his lips. At first Aaron thought that the angel was laughing, but then he saw the tear tracks upon the angle's face. He was crying.

"That simple, huh?"

"Yes," Aaron said, soothing. Like Jeremy had said, the angel had been down here for a long time, maybe enough time to change his oppinion "It's that simple."

The angel shook his head in disbelief.

Aaron found that his other hand had gone to cup the angle's cheek in a comforting gesture. He didn't know where it had come from, the only other angel he had done this to was Camael, as the angel lie dying in his arms. So what was so different about this angel that he would do this, even in front of all the others? He was in the Powers' host, wasn't he?

"What's your name?" Aaron asked him suddenly.

The angel blinked up at him in surprise. "I don't-"

"Come on," Aaron encouraged. "It's a simple question."

Aaron could feel the others behind him, knowing that they could never understand what he was doing, the things that he felt with this power inside of him, or in Jeremy's case, didn't much care for the tenderness in which he was treating the Powers angel.

"Kytrel," the angel finally spoke, tasting the word like he hadn't heard it in the longest time.

Saying his name again, hearing it. It was like he was acknowledging his sins. The name that the Creator had given him especially.

As the name caressed Aaron's ears, the Nephilim felt the golden light surge at the tips of his fingers and his hand sunk into Kytrel's chest and touched his angelic core.

Kytrel gasp in panic as his mortal shell flaked away, and the Nephilim behind Aaron gasped in awe as they did.

"You're fine," Aaron reassured the angel as he stepped back from the angelic being, made of golden rays purer than the sun, came into his true self. His wings flapping lightly to keep him aloft in the small space.

Aaron looked up at him, opening his mouth to bestow upon him the forgiveness that was needed to end the process, but before he was able he was shoved aside.

"No!" it was all Aaron could do as a flaming axe of heavenly fire, accompanied by a cry of rage and defiance, bore down upon the Powers angel who was in mid transition of his ascension.

The tip of Aaron's black wing snapped out, swiping Jeremy away like the bug that he was. Jeremy hit the wall with enough force that a small rumble traveled through the ground as blood spurted from his mouth.

The presence inside of Aaron was so irate that it cried out, and he let it as a flaming sword came to life in the palm of his hand. And in that same motion, he cut the other Nephilim down and heard the other gasp and cry out. The Chosen One paid them no mind. He had tolerated Jeremy for long enough; the moves he made towards Vilma, the trouble he cause with the other Nephilim, he attitude and defiance- but this, this was the last straw and so far over the line that it could no longer be seen.

He approached the Nephilim, who was slumped against the cavern wall, the slash in his torso smouldering from the heat of Aaron's weapon as well as oozing blood.

"I have tried to tolerate your ignorance, Jeremy." Aaron calmly told the glaring Nephilim, the names burning on the surface of his flesh. "But cutting down an angel who is in the middle of ascension is unforgivable."

And he plunged his fire sword into Jeremy's chest, and watched as the light left the angry eyes of the boy. No other Nephilim dare to try and stop him- not even Vilma who had always defended Jeremy- not after what the Nephilim had done.

Aaron took a moment to look at each of his party, making sure the others understood that it had to be done. But his gaze lingered on his girlfriend, whose face was struggling with emotion; sadness, anger, loneliness, grief. Vilma and Jeremy had something in common, the strength and anger of their angelic essence, fighting take control of their bodies and create chaos.

While Aaron had been able to help Vilma control her angelic nature, the same could not be said for Jeremy.

Aaron was finally able to turn his attention back to the Powers angel after Vilma finally gave him a small nod, telling him that she would be fine in the long run.

Kytrel was still in the air, but his essence seemed to be flickering, and he looked like a dying firefly who was trying to hold on.

Aaron looked on worried. Something like this had never happened before, and he was unsure as to what to do. He looked back at Vilma, his rock, for any suggestions, but the female Nephilim was looking past him, her mouth agape in shock, as were the others.

"Aaron," she said, pointing.

Aaron turned around in confusion.

"Wh-?" his mouth hung in shock as well.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

In front of him was the Powers angel, back into his mortal shell again, as healthy as he was the day he descended to earth.

Kytrel stood upon the ground, his wings, _both _of them, twitching about in the small space, rather eager to go their full span and swipe at the air powerfully. And as was with all angels, he was a sight to behold.

He had perfect bone structure and muscle mass, his features extremely proportional.

Even at first glance, Kytrel was different from all of the other Powers angels that Aaron had fought. The angel was not deathly pale, and he didn't wear a funeral director's suit and a duster like all the others. Instead, he looked like he was ageless. He wore skater shoes, black jeans, a white V-neck T-shirt and a black leather jacket over that.

Aaron looked back up to the angels face and was struck further silent.

Silver-gray spiked hair adorned the top of his head, and those eyes, they were almost the same colour with blue flecks.

_No goatee? _Aaron wondered, and then shook his head. "What?" he was finally able to ask, it coming out as a breathless gasp.

And though he was in shock, his sword of heavenly fire still burning in his palm in case the angel decided that he no longer wanted to be friendly.

Though Kyrtel looked just as confused as the rest of them. "I don't understand," He voiced, and though there was fear and anger in it, it was the most beautiful sound, like ivory keys under God's fingers.

It was nothing like it had been when Kytrel had been dying.

Aaron didn't turn as he spoke to the Nephilim behind him. "Go home," He told them. "Take Janice and Jeremy, and make sure that Kirk gets looked after."

No one protested as they gathered their injured and dead, wrapping their shaded wings about themselves before they were gone.

Even after he could still sense the presence behind him and knew that Vilma stayed behind. Aaron was glad that she did, he could use the support.

"I'm- I am myself again." Kytrel breathed in amazement and shock. "My wings!" He gasped, just now seeming to realize that he had both of his wings.

They snapped around him and he started to inspected every downy feather to see if nothing was out of place, but things were and that did not sit well with the angel. Kytrel's pure white wings weren't that way anymore.

The wing that had been missing all the feathers, was dressed in them now. But every feather that had fallen and been painfully plucked, was now replaced with an oily black one. His wing was near like the design of an adult female grazing quadruped which are kept for grazing and its milk, or that white canine with the black spots.

His other wing, the one that had long since been severed from his body so harshly, was back again. And there was no sign of white feathers whatsoever. It was completely and utterly black. Kytrel's grip tightened on the appendage, harshly enough to bend some of the dark feathers.

Inside, he wept silently.

"What have you done to me?" He demanded of Aaron.

Aaron's sword flared at the angel's agitation in a warning for him to step back. The tips of Vilma's fingers sparked as well, ready for a weapon of fire to come to life in the palm of her hand at a moments notice if need be.

"I don't know," Aaron told the angel truthfully.

"There's no need to panic," Vilma voiced as well, her voice calming and smooth.

It had more effect than Aaron's did. Her voice always did.

"Let's just talk and see if we can figure this out." Her hands were no longer sparking to show that she meant no violence toward him, as she stepped up next to Aaron. "How did you end up down here, Kytrel?"

The Powers angel looked between the two Nephilim as he took a deep breath. He had nothing to lose here. "I was a part of the Powers host since I was created," Kytrel started.

"I descended upon the earth like all the other angels after the Great War in Heaven. It was our mission to track down all of the fallen angels and see them punished. But then there was this human seer who had a vision that the fallen were laying with mortal woman and that one of the children born would have the power to send the fallen home. So then that was what became of our mission." His words caught in his throat but he continued anyway, confessing his sins.

"I have killed innocent children who didn't even know why they were being killed, and my own brothers who just wanted the attentions of our Creator." He breathing was jagged, his handsome face riddled with the guilt and shame of the horrors that he had caused as well as seen.

"When our leader left the host-"

Aaron looked at him in confusion and his voice matched. "Verchiel didn't leave, he just went crazing."

Kytrel shook his head. "Verchiel was second in command back then. Our real leader," He said as he got a wistful and almost yearning expression on his face. "He was one of the most beautiful things that you could have laid your gaze on next to the Creator." And his eyes slipped closed as he decided to describe this angel.

"The power that he wielded, the control and command he had, the confidence that embodied his core. When he spoke, you had no other choice but to listen." Kytrel swallowed and opened his eyes once again, blinking as if just awaking from a dream.

Aaron could not tear his gaze away. He knew an angel like that, how could he have forgotten an angel like that? Aaron had lost his friend and mentor who had been the exact embodiment of that. His sword disappeared with the realization.

"_Camael_," He breathed.

Kytrel's eyes snapped to him and the angel stepped forward, grasping the Nephilim by the shoulders desperately.

"You know Camael?" He demanded. "You have to tell me where he is!"

"**Hey**." Vimla's voice was hard, a warning. "Step back."

Kytrel looked at her, the desperation etched deep into his features. And Aaron could see the struggle that he was having within himself. Whether he would have to fight Vilma for the answer he so desperately needed to acquire, or would they give him the answer if he didn't cause trouble.

Finally, the angel stepped back, his hands held up none-threateningly.

"Camael?" He repeated.

His voice was no less desperate, but it was no longer demanding either. His eyes, they bore into Aaron, almost seeming to try and pull the information from the Nephilim's brain.

"Kytrel…"

The angel didn't like that tone in the least and knew exactly what it meant. The breath left him, seeming to take the hope that he had held with it. "He's gone," He said flatly, emotionless, and it reminded Aaron of his mentor for a flash.

"Yes," Aaron whispered.

This was the one thing that kept Kytrel sane, the knowledge that Camael was out there, alive, and taking care of business, fighting Verchiel. He closed his eyes in a brief moment of mourning. But there was one thing that the angel was now desperate to know.

"Did he- was he forgiven?"

"Yeah," Aaron's voice was soft.

"I'm glad." Kytrel's voice matched his.

There was quiet and it rang in Aaron's ears loudly, and he couldn't take it any longer. He needed something to distract him and he was sure that Kytrel did as well.

"What happened after he left?" Vilma voiced softly, as if hearing her boyfriend's silent request. The female Nephilim hadn't the chance to meet Camael herself, but she knew that Aaron and he had been close and this must be opening old wounds.

Kytrel cleared his throat before he spoke, this wasn't really in mind for what he would have preferred for a distraction, but it was better in the silence that he had been drowning in.

"Verchiel became the new leader of the Powers." Kytrel told them, something he was sure that they already knew , but he continued anyway. "He was so angry with Camael, he felt personally betrayed, so one of the first things that he did so that something like that wouldn't happen again, was clean house. Camael and myself were close and I was the only one that seemed to share his opinion, and if there were other, then they were too afraid of what Verchiel might do to them. So instead of joining me and fighting against Verchiel, they helped in my capture."

The angel sunk to the ground, the bodies of the dead trolls scattered around him but he didn't seem to see them. "Usually, I would have been killed on the spot," He told them factly. "But Verchiel never did have such mercy. They held me down, my own brothers, and laughed as Vercheil- as Verchiel first broke every single bone in my wing. There's over a hundred, you know?" He said. "Before he _ripped _the wing from my shoulder, _slowly_. And _that, _took near five hours to do. Then, now that there would be no way for me to escape, I was brought down here to the trolls, as an ever lasting meal." The angel laughed, but there was no humour in it, just one monotonous sound.

It was horrible and even frightening.

Aaron and Vilma looked at each other in worry, and felt pity for the angel. They weren't sure how they would feel if something like that were to happen to one of the their wings. It would be the worst torture, more so than being slowly eaten by trolls, because losing a wing would be like losing a part of yourself.

"Verchiel is gone," Aaron said, hoping that it might mean something to the angel. "You don't have to worry about the Powers any longer."

Kytrel had stopped the sick laughter and shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, Nephilim. Verchiel may have been out of him mind, but his paranoia made him smart."

"What are you saying?"

"I may no longer be with the Powers, but I still felt it when Verchiel died, and so did _they_."

"Who are _they_?" Vilma questioned in worry, the same expression that was on Aaron's face.

"Like I said: Crazy but smart." Kytrel told them. "Verchiel knew that eventually he would be killed, so he chose six angels and sent them away into hiding. In the event of his death, they would reappear and take Verchiel's place, and complete his mission. Always the Powers…" He seethed in contempt. "If Verchiel failed and was killed, then the remaining Powers would summon _him."_

"Who?" The two Nephilim asked.

"_Wormwood…"_ Kytrel whispered in true fear.

Aaron and Vilma weren't quiet sure who this Wormwood character was, but the Nephilim knew that staying here any longer was not a good thing. He wasn't sure if Kytrel could be trusted just yet, but even if that were true, Aaron wasn't going to just not listen. If there were in fact more Powers out there, then all of the Nephilim were in grave trouble. He needed to hear more and he needed to talk to his father; about this, Wormwood and what ever happened to Kytrel.

"Vilma," Aaron addressed his girlfriend. He took her arm and stepped from Kytrel, whispering to her. "I want you to go back home and get Lucifer and Lorelei, tell them that I'm going to bring back company."

"Aaron, are you sure that's such a good idea?" She voiced her concerns, glancing at the sunken angel behind them. "He's a Powers angel."

"_Former."_ Aaron corrected her, a bit of a bite in his voice. He saw her face and instantly felt guilty. "I didn't mean to snap," her told her. Her expression softened. "And that's why we're including Lorilei." He assured her.

"Just… be careful, okay?" She told, not able to help that she was still sceptical. After her experience at the hands of Verchiel, she wasn't sure she would ever be %100 okay with this, and she was sure that the others would agree. And despite that fact that this angel claimed to have known Camael, she didn't know how Aaron could instantaneously trust him- even before that detail was mentioned. But this was what he wanted and she would go along with it, her guard up.

She gave his arm a squeeze before her white wings, ones that Kytrel was deeply jealous of, wrapped about her, and she disappeared into the ether.

"Kytrel," Aaron turned to the angel after Vilma was gone. "You're coming with me."

Kytrel looked up at the young Nephilim. "What?" He asked.

"I have to know everything I can about this Wormwood. And we're going to have to talk with my father."

The angle finally climbed to his feet, slapping the dust from the back of his jeans. "Why would I go with you?" He finally asked. "When I can just fly out of here?"

Aaron looked at him for a long moment before he spoke. "Then why don't you?" He challenged the angel.

Kytrel fixed him with a intense glare, one that reminded that Nephilim so much of his friend. All the angel need do was thumb at a invisible goatee and Aaron's mind would be blown. But the angel didn't and Aaron found himself sadly disappointed.

"Okay," He said finally, eventually. "Your father?" Because the truth was, he had nowhere else to go. He looked at Aaron, looked at his wings. And could not understand why he had not noticed it either. The Nephilim's wings were of oily black. He'd only ever known one angel from Heaven that didn't have white wings, but black instead. It was the angel that carried Hell.

Lucifer Morningstar.

Kytrel took a step back from the devil's son. "Your father is the damned one."

It took a moment for that to sink in, and Aaron couldn't believe that it still took him by surprise that the angels thought of him that way when Aaron just considered the fallen angel his father.

"That's one way of putting it." Aaron was sure that the angel could have thought of worse things to call his father, it was Lucifer's fault that the Powers went crazy anyhow. "Please," He said, his wings spread, the feathered tips twitching, ready to embrace them both.

Kytrel, for the briefest of seconds considered not stepping next to Aaron, but what other choice did he have? He brethren left him here as punishment. His beloved leader and friend was back in Heaven. Maybe going and helping the Nephilim would redeem him and he could be forgiven right this time.

So he stepped forward and was embraced by Aaron dark wings, and it was beautiful. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and it felt like he was home again, back in Heaven, at Camael's side.

But as soon as it had come, it was gone, and he was deeply saddened. He stumbled form the comforting embrace and into what was blinding brightness. Light, it had been such a long while since he was in its warm presence. And as much as Kytrel wanted to bask in the rays of an old friend, but he was supposed to be paying attention.

The angel shook his head and looked around. He was in a field surrounded by trees, and not far from him was an old building. They seemed so beautiful to him, he was sure that anything would be stunning to him in his thousand years of deprivation.

When he looked back at Aaron, he found that the boy was no longer alone. So many years locked in a hole had really distorted with his focus.

On Aaron's right side was another female Nephilim, but not the beautiful dark-skinned girl from the cave. She had white hair and though the angel knew that she was young, she didn't look it. Her age was forced, not caused by human trauma, but instead powerful magicks- Archon magick.

The other was an angel, and though he was fallen, he was still one of the most powerful angels that the Creator made. He had dark hair and gold-flecked eyes, and though he was wearing a sweater, jeans and sneakers, he was still a sight to behold because all Kytrel could see was the golden plates of armour, the blood of his brothers cascading down it.

The former Powers angel could not help the involuntary step backwards. Instead of keeping his eyes on Lucifer, he really should have kept his gaze on the female Nephilim because she stepped to him without his notice, and snapped shackles of gold marked with magick around his wrists and a similar one around his throat.

Kytrel looked down at them in surprise, and yelled out just the same as the symbols etched into the restraints sparked and his new wings were forced back into his body.

"Sorry," She said with a slight shrug of her frail shoulders. "Just a precaution, you know how it is." She stepped back to Aaron.

Kytrel nodded, trying to calm his heart.

"You look familiar…?" Lucifer finally spoke, taking a step forward, looking at the other angel, who was forcing himself not to step back.

"K-Kytrel, Morningstar, sir." He felt like a monkey, not knowing what to call the fallen angel or how to act; he hadn't been around his own kind in such a long time.

"Lucifer is just fine." the devil told him. "Kytrel?" He questioned, trying out the name to see if it rang any of his brain's bells, but it didn't. "Aaron?" He asked his son, his gaze still trained on the other angel.

"Camael," Was all Aaron told him, Lorelei and him standing behind the fallen angel.

"Yes… Camael." the Morningstar nodded in agreement, now that a bell inside his brain rang.

Kytrel nodded as well. "Camael and myself were created from the same part of the Almighty."

"Ah," Lucifer said. "So, you had a change of mind like our old friend?"

"Yes, but it took me too long to get out and Verchiel found out about my doubts."

"And he didn't kill you?" Lucifer asked in surprise, remembering the cruelty that was bestowed upon himself when he was Verchiel's prisoner.

"I wish," Kytrel whispered, and instantly looked ashamed. He looked to the ground from Lucifer's gaze. "He gave me to the trolls, minus a wing." He shuddered as if remembering the pain and sorrow he had felt.

"Oh!" Lucifer held up his hand in remembrance, his elbow resting on his crossed arm. "Your wings are strange, I've never known any other angel that didn't have white wings." His voice held great interest.

"That was one of the things that we needed to talk about," Aaron spoke up and Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at his son. "I was in the middle of forgiving Kytrel when the transition was interrupted."

"What happened?" Lerelei asked.

"When he fell, he came back to his mortal body." He told the two. "The wing that was missing, it returned with feathers that were black. And Kytrel's other wing, all the feathers that had been gone were replaced with black feathers as well."

"Hmm." Lucifer mulled this over as he stuck his index finger into his breast pocket and moved it in a repetitive motion. "I have to agree with you, my dear friend." He murmured as there was a squeak from said pocket, stepping closer to Kytrel.

The former Powers angel saw that the Morningstar was speaking with a mouse, and even then, the fallen angel was fearful and Kytrel still had to force himself not to step away. If they didn't kill him and he planned on staying if they let him, he would have to get used to such things.

"Hm." Lucifer said again, finally stepping back.

"What?" Lorelei asked.

"It would seem that any injury that Kytrel may have had before the ascension, had been healed by your attributes, Aaron."

"What?" This time it was Aaron.

"Just as I have said," Lucifer crooked a finger at the two Nephilim behind him. "Observe."

Much to Kytrel's dismay, both Lorelei and Aaron stepped to either side of Lucifer and the angel was put under triple the scrutiny.

"Look at his eyes," Lucifer told them. "The right, a subtle grey-blue. But his left… don't you see?"

The two half-breeds looked first at Kytrel's left eye and then his right eye before looking at Lucifer's because, of course, father and son share the same eyes.

"It has the same gold flecks and everything," Aaron breathed, looking between the two angels. He wasn't sure just yet whether he was amazed by this or completely freaked-out by it.

But Lorelei felt different. "Cool," She breathed.

Aaron looked at her with narrowed eyes and she shrugged in response.

Lucifer looked between the two and decided to change the subject. For their sake, his own and Kytrel's who looked like a frozen statue.

"What was the other thing that you wanted to speak about, Aaron?" Lucifer asked.

"Oh, um, Wormwood?" He looked to Kytrel who nodded. "Whatever the heck that is."

Lucifer did not like that answer at all, his mind reeled and he had to force himself to pay attention as Kytrel spoke.

"After Verchiel took control of the Powers host, one of the things that he did was send six angel away. If he were to die before his mission to find all the fallen and kill all the Nephilim was completed, then these angels would become that new host."

"And do you know of their plan?" Lucifer questioned, his eyes intense.

"I believe that you already know," Kytrel told him.

The Morningstar sighed in dread because he did, he would never need a reminder on what that name meant. "Wormwood," He repeated the name, just in case, but Kytrel nodded, their expressions the same.

"What's Wormwood?" Aaron demanded, not able to wait any longer.

Lucifer sighed again and Aaron didn't like that.

"Not 'what,'" His father told him. "But 'who,'"

"Okay. So who then?"

"A terrible angel," He said, seeming to stare off into space. "A terrible angel with a terrible purpose." His gaze shifted back to Aaron's, locking on them with a frightening intensity.

The Nephilim was afraid for what his father was about to say next.

"A purpose which is to bring about the end of the world."

Aaron had been correct.

"Okay, so how are the Powers going to find this Wormwood guy?" Lorelei spoke up, wanting to be included into the conversation; later, she was sure that it wouldn't be the case.

Lucifer and Kytrel looked at each other then, seeming to decide who should speak. They both had information that was needed, the same if the two angels went into technicalities. Both had been shut out from the world for the last thousand years; Lucifer chose to seclude himself; while Kytrel had been forced there.

"Well?" Aaron demanded, when after a minute, neither angel spoke. "Spit it out!"

It was decided that Lucifer would tell them. The fallen angel had been next to the Almighty, after all, when Wormwood was created.

"In order for Wormwood to be awakened, the Almighty created something called the instrument," Lucifer told the two Nephilim.

Aaron looked at him. "The instrument," He repeated. "Do you mean like Gabriel's horn?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Lucifer said, proud of his son. "It started off in Gabriel's possession but found its way into the hands of other owners. Their job has been to watch and wait for a for a sign that it is time for the world to end."

"Any idea who has it now?" Aaron asked next.

Lucifer shook his head after he saw that Kytrel did the same. "No. But if we don't, then there's a good chance that the Powers don't either. And that will hopefully buy us some time."

"We're going to have to find whoever has it before they do," Lorelei agreed.

There was silence as the four stood in a small circle in the field, each pondering how they were going to accomplish just that.

Kytrel was both surprised and proud of himself that he was the first to speak up, even after he had no stimuli for a thousand years.

"Something that divine… that powerful… must leave some kind of trail," Kytrel said, consulting with the Morningstar. He wasn't quite sure what he was to do with his shackled hands, he wanted to rub his neck but the piece around it prevented him from doing so, so he opted to just hold them at his ribs.

The three looked at the former Powers angel in surprise.

"If that were the case," Aaron said, speaking next. "wouldn't the Powers be able to track it?"

"That is a good point," Kytrel said, accepting the fault in his line of thought, getting disappointed that it was being shot to the ground.

Lucifer held up his hand, stopping Kytrel's disappointment in its tracks. The angel looked at him with eager eyes.

"If they had been able to trace it, wouldn't we all be dead by now?" Lucifer said.

"Another good point," Kytrel agreed with the fallen angel, a smile threatening to curve his perfectly plush lips.

The Morningstar gave him a wink and Kytrel felt the wings inside of him flutter rapidly at the prospect of the devil winking at him, so much so that he felt the magick charge in the bracelets, and forced himself to calm down.

Kytrel was sure that no one noticed as Aaron continued their train of thought.

"So it doesn't leave a trail." He concluded in both disappointment and pleasure.

"Or it does and its masked in someway." Lorelei countered, now this was something she knew about.

"Then if its masked how would we find it?" Aaron wondered.

"Only the most sensitive could track something with the kind of power that the instrument possess," Lucifer told them as he gaze over Kytrel's shoulder and to the orphanage where he knew the other Nephilim were mourning the loss of three of their own. Everything looked calm and peaceful, but he knew that it wasn't true. "Powerful magicks are needed hear," He said softy and with regret.

"Archon magick," Lorelei sighed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"That's powerful stuff," Kytrel told her just as soft, looking at the Nephilim.

"You don't have to tell me,"

"That can't be our only option," Aaron protested; the Archon magick had already done so much to her and this- this might cross the line that was keeping her alive.

"Do you see another way?" She asked, already agreeing to this, they didn't have time to wait for another option.

"Gabriel," Aaron said suddenly.

Kytrel looked at him in confusion. "How will you be able to locate the Archangel Gabriel?"

"Not the Archangel," Lucifer corrected him. "Aaron has a dog."

Kytrel blinked. "Dog?"

"Yeah," Aaron nodded, a smile on his lips. "You have to know that he's not just _any_ dog; he was changed with my power. And anyway," He looked at the others. "He's done it before. Remember? He tracked a Malakim,"

"Yeah, but he already had the scent from Scholar's scroll. We don't have that this time," Lorelei told him.

"Oh." Aaron's shoulders slumped. "So we do need Archon magick."

"Yep," Lorelei agreed.

"You don't have to do this," He told her.

Lorelei scoffed. "And how else are we supposed to find the instrument, Corbet?" She demanded. "It's either this or the end of the world. Take your pick," She stared him down, waiting for an answer.

Lorelei could see the struggle that he was going through by his clenched jaw.

Save her from the irreversible damage of Archon magick or save the world from the hell-bent Powers.

Sacrifice the few for the many.

Would the ends really justify the means?

Yes, they would, because what would be the point of saving her life when the world was going to end anyhow?

Lorelei could see the instant that Aaron realized this and how deeply it went. The same was with her. It sucked but then, sometimes, so did life. She knew she had to do this, and now Aaron did too. She was the only one and hoped that he didn't take to personally when the effects of the Archon magick set in, she didn't.

"Well, let's do this," She told them. "The Power have been looking for the instrument for six months now, and we've only just heard about it, we're way behind."

It wasn't as if she was eager to die, but what would be the point in putting this off?

"Yes, we are." Lucifer agreed with her as he rubbed slow circles on her back with one hand, as the other gave his son's should a squeeze. "But it can wait one more day, today, we mourn our lost friends."

Neither Nephilim moved, both finding his touch warming and comforting.

"Go." He told them, giving them both a small and gentle push towards to school.

They went, reluctantly.

The two angels watched them go for a moment, before Lucifer turned to Kytrel.

"Let's get those off, then, huh?" He said.

"Hm?" Kytrel turned to the fallen angel.

Though Lucifer already had his hands on the magick-infused, golden bracelets. Kytrel watched as they sparked for a moment before they disappeared back into the ether and to Lorelei's room where they belonged. He put his hands on the one around the angel's neck next and did the same thing.

Kytrel would have looked at the Morningstar with amazement if it weren't for the sudden un-compression of his angelic power. It was like it had been when his power was suppressed. It shot through him to his toes and to the top of his skull, wanting to shoot out of his body in the form of his abominable wings. Long since has his body held such power.

He would have fallen to his knees if it weren't for the fact that Lucifer caught him. Though Kytrel did have enough mind to force his wings into submission.

"Are you sure?" He asked Lucifer as he looked at him free hands before he was quick to tuck them in his jacket pockets.

"You're not?" Lucifer asked, curious, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Kytrel didn't answer and instead looked away from the piercing gaze.

"My son would never have entertained the idea of brining you here, Kytrel, if he had even the slightest doubt that you wouldn't be a danger to the other Nephilim." Lucifer told him when the angel didn't respond to his earlier question, and he waited.

"I am-" Kytrel stopped and closed his eyes, only to open them when there was an obscene amount of squeaking coming from Lucifer's pocket.

"Milton?" Lucifer questioned, looking down at the little mouse first poked his head from the pocket before scampering up onto his shoulder.

Milton gazed up at his friend and squeaked before he suddenly leapt from his shoulder and onto Kytrel's. The small rodent struggled for purchase on the smooth leather, and the angel caught him before Milton could fall.

Kytrel looked at Lucifer who was smiling at him, and looked down when Milton let out a squeak. The angel lifted the mouse up so that it was close to his face and then Milton proceeded to nuzzle his chin with his small wet nose and ticklish whiskers.

Kytrel found himself chuckling lightly.

"And now, I know my son was right." Lucifer said, chuckling too. "Milton is a very good judge of character."

"Thank you," the former Powers angel said to them both, as he very carefully petted Milton's soft tiny head with the tip of his index finger.

_F_

_Hope you enjoyed, I did make some changes, like Aaron does not kill Jeremy in the book, and the in the book the angel kills himself._

_I hope to write more with Kytrel._

**_Look for the sequel: ALAR_**


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